


Purity

by daiseypuppy (svana_vrika)



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Angst, Community: 30_kisses, Gen, Introspection, One-Sided Attraction, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/daiseypuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo contemplates on Sanzo's light</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ group "30kisses". Prompt was 'Our distance and that person'.
> 
> Disclaimer: The following is written solely for fun, and no infringement is intended. Saiyuki and the scenarios and characters involved are the intellectual property of Minekura Kazuya.

Light. When I picture Genjyo Sanzo, that is what I see. Even that day he first knocked on my door, it was what I noticed about him. From the sheen of his golden hair to the irritated light in his eyes, to the way the waning sun kissed his ivory skin and made it glow, everything about him shone. In the presence of his brightness, my blemishes glared more garishly than ever before and, as I leaned there staring at him in my doorway, I swore I had never seen anything more beyond my reach- despite the fact that he was but an arm’s length away.

I’ve only been closer to him than that once- again on the day that we met. Anyone who calls me a selfish bastard can kiss my ass, because tackling Sanzo and pinning him to the ground to give Cho Gonou a chance to flee was akin to jumping into an inferno for me. Every inch of my unworthy body ached and burned for days after that, the searing made more intense by the way he’d glare down his nose at me as if I’d stained more than just his robes by the contact. And, that gorgeous golden light that spilled from him days later when he chanted his mantra in front of the ruins of Hyakugen Maoh's castle was the proverbial salt in those wounds.

Now, two years later as I sit kitty-corner behind him in Jeep, he is still just as bright, still just as unattainable. As time has passed, I’ve learned that he, too, feels tainted- stained by the blood that he’s spilled and the guilt of his master’s death. Yet, every time he’s talked about it- every time it rains and he withdraws inside himself due to his perceived ‘shame’- I can’t help but feel a little more soiled, and a lot less worthy of his light.

How he must despise _me_ if he uses such standards to measure! I’ve shed as much blood as he has; I was the one who ultimately was guilty for my mother’s death- her own son, not some misguided band of demons. He claims his soul is tainted, but my very blood is filthy, the vitae needed to keep me alive polluted by the unholy union of my conception. Even Hakkai, who has taken more lives than Sanzo and I combined, had a chance to start fresh, his slate wiped clean and his soul made new by the Sanbutsushin. But, not even a new name and forgiveness by the Bodhisattva in person could change what I am: contaminated… unworthy… beneath contempt. To truly purify me, one would have to drain my body dry… to kill me. And, even then, my hair and eyes would still speak of my true self- the pitiful, foolish moth to Genjyo Sanzo’s brilliant, beautiful flame.


End file.
